The Closest Thing
by F Elizabeth
Summary: You will always be the closest thing to my heart. / Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there.


Hello, readers.

I hope everyone is doing well, especially all the dads out there. Happy Father's Day! This is just a little fic in honor of the Day of Dads, and what better way to celebrate than by honoring one of the best dads ever?

Hope you all enjoy, and Happy Father's Day!

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**The Closest Thing**

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Kurt bit his lip anxiously, unable to keep the grin off his face. He shifted eagerly from foot to foot in front of Burt's bedroom door and his hand was resting on the knob, ready to turn it. Glancing down the hallway, he gave a long sigh.

"Carole, Finn," he whispered loudly, "come on. He's going to be up any second."

"We're coming, we're coming," Carole said. She padded slowly down the hall toward him, donning a silk robe and her hair pulled back. She balanced a tray in her hands, which held a plate of crepes, courtesy of Kurt, a bowl of fruit, and a tall glass of juice.

Finn ambled down the hallway after her, looking still asleep. His hair was sticking up in the back and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. For a moment he lost his footing and bumped into the wall, jarring him and making him blink. Kurt rolled his eyes impatiently and dropped his hand from the knob.

"It's going to be Father's Day _next _year if we don't hurry up," he said with a sigh. He folded his arms over his chest, careful to not bend the card in his hand.

Carole smiled pettily and shifted the tray in her hands. "It's okay, Kurt. Go ahead."

Kurt's smiled stretched from ear to ear and he turned back to the door. He knocked on it once, and he received a grunt in reply.

"Can I come in, Dad?" he asked. He looked back at Carole and Finn, the latter carrying a card as well. Now, Finn had his eyes shut and looked asleep on his feet. Carole nudged him.

"Yeah, yeah, come on in, kiddo," Burt mumbled from the other side of the door.

Kurt gave the knob a twist and pushed the door open. Burt was standing in front of the mirror, in the process of buttoning a shirt. He glanced over when he saw Kurt, Carole, and Finn enter the room.

"What's goin' on?" he asked. His eyes found the tray of food in his wife's hands. "Oh, no. You guys didn't need to make me breakfast this morning. I get that it's Father's Day and everything, but you didn't need to."

"But we _wanted _to," Kurt said in a sing-song voice as he went over to Burt and looped his arm through his father's.

Finn rubbed his face. "_Kurt _wanted to, but—"

"Shush," Carole scolded and she set the tray down on the foot of the bed. "We _all _wanted to."

"Finn just doesn't like getting up before noon," Kurt said and he patted his dad's hand. "Now, go change clothes."

Burt stared oddly at him. "What?"

"That's the whole point of 'breakfast in bed,'" he said and drew back the covers on the bed, which had been neatly made up. "You are going to get out of these clothes, put on something more comfortable, and eat breakfast in bed."

Carole nodded and smiled. "You better do what he says, honey. He got up at five to make all these crepes. Why not put them to good use?"

Putting his hands over his head in surrender, Burt dug out a pair of shorts and a worn t-shirt from the dresser and trudged into the bathroom. As soon as he vanished, Kurt turned to Carole and Finn with a satisfied smile.

Finn wandered over to the bed where the tray of food sat and reached out to take one of the crepes. Kurt swatted his hand.

"These are for Dad," he said as Finn drew his hand back sadly. "There are more out in the fridge for you, if you want them."

Finn merely pressed his lips into a flat line and looked at the window.

A few moments later, Burt emerged from the bathroom, looking awkward in shorts. But he didn't say a word as he climbed back into the bed and settled the covers over his lap. He raised his hands and said, "Okay. Hit me."

Kurt smiled and brought the tray over, setting it across his lap. He sat down on the edge of the bed and the mattress shifted when Finn flopped down beside him. Carole crawled across the bed to sit by her husband and placed her card on the edge of the tray.

When Burt reached for her card, Kurt caught his wrist.

"First, you have to try my cooking," he said in a serious tone. "Then, you may open the cards."

"Okay, okay, but I'm sure your cooking is as good as always," Burt mumbled. He grappled with the fork and cut off the end of a crepe, chewing on it. He smiled a moment later. "Is this some of your French stuff again?"

"Obviously. Nothing less than the best," Kurt recited happily. "Does it taste good?"

Burt hummed and cut off another piece. "Of course."

"_Now _that you've tasted the breakfast I slaved over this morning_, _you can open the cards." Kurt grabbed Finn's and joined it with his own, setting it near Carole's.

Setting down his fork, Burt reached for Carole's card and flipped open the envelope. He read the card under his breath and the smile on his face was absolute. When he finished, he leaned across the bed to kiss her.

"Oh, gross. PDA," Finn moaned from the foot of the bed. He clapped his hands over his eyes.

"It's nothing different than what you and Rachel do," Kurt remarked without missing a beat.

Burt chuckled at Finn's reaction and reached for his stepson's card. He read over it with a soft smile and glanced over at the tall boy. "Thanks, Finn. It means a lot to me."

"What does it say?" Kurt asked, starting to his knees to read over his dad's shoulder.

Finn bolted upright, his eyes wide. "Personal stuff."

Kurt slowly sat back. "Oh. Alright."

"It's just Finn stuff," Burt said. He grabbed Kurt's card and waved it. "Now, let's have a look at your card, Kurt. I'm sure you've written a whole speech in here for me, like last time."

Kurt shrugged one shoulder and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Almost every Father's Day in the past, he had written Burt a letter that filled up both sides of the inside of the card, and sometimes the back as well. The year before, he'd written so much and he had to finish it out on notebook paper.

But even though the lengths of his letter changed each year, he always signed the card: _You will always be the closest thing to my heart._

It was something Kurt's mom constantly said when he was young, and he was in the habit of writing it on Burt's birthday, Christmas, and Father's Day cards.

"Thank you, Kurt," Burt said, pulling Kurt from his reverie. Kurt snapped his head up to see Burt holding the card, his lips turned up in a smile. "This means a lot to me."

Instead of saying anything, Kurt merely nodded.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell ringing startled all of them.

"Who in the world could that be?" Burt grumbled. He had started to pick the tray up off his lap when Carole touched his arm.

"I'll get it," she said faintly and padded out of the room.

Finn covered his face with his hands. "Hey, Burt, can I have one of your crepes?"

"Finn, those are Dad's," Kurt complained. He glared over his shoulder at him.

But Burt pushed his tray forward and sat up. "Sure, Finn, go ahead. Like Kurt said, there's plenty more in the kitchen."

Grinning, Finn sat up immediately and grabbed the plate from his hand. Around a mouthful, he said, "These aren't half bad, Kurt. You should make them more often."

"Yes, because I absolutely love slaving over a hot stove for hours at a time to make them."

Behind them, Carole knocked lightly on the door. "Kurt, you've got a visitor."

Before he had the chance to turn around, Kurt felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a pair of lips pressed against his cheek. Smiling, he tilted his head back to look up at the dark haired boy. "Blaine, what are you doing here? It's a Sunday."

He strictly avoided saying 'Father's Day.' Years ago, when Blaine had first come out to his parents, his dad had thrown a fit about raising a 'gay son' and he had immediately filed for a divorce. He had packed up his things and left, moving out to Chicago and out of Blaine's life, for good. For the past four years, Blaine hadn't heard anything from his father.

"I know, but I wanted to see how my favorite person was doing today. Besides, living in a neighborhood five minutes away has its perks," Blaine replied and dropped down onto the bed. "Why not use that to my advantage?"

He wore a pair of plaid shorts with a loose t-shirt, and his hair was slightly combed back; he looked like he had just gotten out of bed minutes before heading over. He leaned over and kissed Kurt on the mouth, briefly.

"Oh, gross, guys," Finn moaned and ducked his head. "PDA."

"It's nothing different than what you and Rachel do," Burt replied with a chuckle. He folded his arms over his chest. "It's good to see you again, Blaine."

Blaine nodded. "Good to see you, too, sir."

"It's Burt to you," he said flatly.

"Ah, right. Burt," Blaine said, testing out the name. His mouth moved like he was going to continue, but Finn prodded him in the shoulder with the plate of crepes.

"You want one, dude?" Finn offered with a mouthful. He held out the plate.

Blaine took one glance at them, then looked to Kurt. He reached out almost absently to take his boyfriend's hand. "How long did it take for you to make those?"

"Two hours, tops," Kurt said, squeezing his hand, "but I had to get up before Dad did, which meant getting up at five."

"Ouch." He cleared his throat.

"So, Blaine," Carole said from the doorway. She had gone to the kitchen and was back with a mug of coffee in her hands, and she walked into the room. "What brings you here? We thought you'd be with your mom and your sister today."

Blaine scratched the back of his head with his free hand and he suddenly became quiet. "I, um, just wanted to come over to wish Burt a happy Father's Day," he said almost inaudibly. His eyes met Burt's. "Sir, you're the closest thing I have to a father right now, and I've appreciated it a lot. Since my dad left, I sort of felt like I was missing a strong parental figure in my life. My mom can only do so much, and my sister is…"

He paused to laugh. "Well, she's my sister. And Cooper is too busy playing celebrity to be around to even be my brother. So, thank you, Burt. You probably don't think you've done a lot to make a difference to me, but you have. You've taught me a lot, things my dad never would have taught me. So thank you. It means a lot to me." Blaine ducked his chin to his chest, almost sheepishly.

Kurt felt his grip on his hand tighten, and he swallowed, hard.

"Thank you, Blaine," Burt said after a moment of silence had passed. "That means a lot to hear that, and I'm glad I play that kind of role in your life."

Kurt sat there, unmoving. He glanced between Blaine and his father, and found that Blaine was red in the face. He put his arm around the other boy and placed his chin on his shoulder. Carole tucked her hair behind her ears and placed her hand over Burt's.

Finally, Finn blurted out, "Are there any more crepes left?"

"Did you seriously eat all of them?" Kurt said incredulously.

Finn waved the empty plate at him and slid off the bed, making his way to the door. "Yeah, they were good! What, I like food, okay?"

"There's more in the fridge to heat up," Kurt grumbled.

"Blaine, would you like some breakfast?" Carole asked sweetly after a sip of coffee. "We've definitely got plenty of crepes to go around."

A smile broke out on Blaine's face and he stood up, pulling Kurt with him. "Absolutely. I would love to."


End file.
